whipped cream and friends


once in a while, when they hear the word “unemployed” and remember me, they recommend several job opportunities i might be interested to apply — bank teller, call center agent, company nurse, sanitary engineer, yaya, whatever. they know what my dream job is but so far, they haven’t heard of any company looking for cashiers.

so until then, i’ma just sit here, browse through our easter night’s lartian dinner (generously sponsored by roma) in girly’s multiply account, and wonder why the hell i looked so damn fugly in all the damned photos while the rest of the morons were blooming like freaking bougainvillea. (i know “rose” is easier to spell but i like giving virtual strangers the impression that i’m intelligent. if only to compensate for my, um, aesthetic limitations, so to speak.)

that easter dinner + coffee was short but fun. i was high on friends and laughter and caffeine. so much so that it wasn’t until around 6am that i was finally able to sleep. didn’t know oreo frappucino could do that to you. or perhaps it was the whipped cream?

speaking of which, easter 2010 was when i learned the evil (read: fattening) effects of whipped cream. it looked innocent enough to me. i loved it. all 36% milkfat of it.

just as i love my friends — fats and all! =)

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